


Peanut Butter

by teaandchess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: He remembered tasting peanut butter in her mouth. Something he is going to be reminded of forever.





	Peanut Butter

  Dean had his list of things he shouldn’t like but did. Like the drowsy sensation of being too drunk to care what had gone wrong in the world or the feel of a random woman’s hand trying to soothe away pain far too deep to ever really leave him. Typically all of those things were what was bad for him, and he knew it.   
        
    He had tried very hard to hate peanut butter but, still, he tended to enjoy it and he slapped it on the toast he had burnt as if he hated the bread. Anything to hide how on edge he was around the only other person left in the cabin. Sam and Castiel had taken Kevin out of the house to get fresh supplies, and Dean had been left in charge of Castiel’s ‘favourite friend.’ Castiel had almost threatened him to keep an eye on her while he was gone and Dean had only done so because Castiel had turned the 'puppy’ look he’d learned from Sam on him.   
    Nevermind that the demon had no intention of making this easy.  
    Damn her.  
    “You know,” Meg settled back into one of the chairs at the table, “I never took you for a baby sitter.”  
   “Yeah well, you never struck me as someone who’d let an angel collar them.”  
   Her eyes glinted a little. “Don’t be jealous, Dean-o. I can tell you that it’s not your name he calls out when he comes. No matter how much you wish it.”   
    Dean rolled his eyes and let the plate slam onto the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I know he’s not sleeping with you…yet. And I’m one for the ladies. Despite what everyone seems to think.”  
   “It’s almost like you’re trying to warn me off your bestie. That’s so cute,  coming from a little girl like you,” Meg countered neatly and she propped her boots up onto the table.   
   “Don’t be jealous, Meg,” he mocked. “I wouldn’t touch you to fuck you.”  
    She laughed. “Oh, Dean, I think you would. You just won’t let yourself.”   
    There was no way he could answer that. Dean took a seat across from her and tried to focus on his toast, crumbling it to smaller chunks to try to draw it out. He didn’t want to talk to her. Every time he was alone with Meg he had the eerie feeling he was the prey and she was the hunter.  
    And Meg knew it.  
    Dean bit into the toast and hoped to God he’d choke.  
    But a bored demon was not about to make his life easy. Meg leaned back in her chair and tapped her boots in the air to some unheard rhythm, humming and whistling as she did it. She drummed her fingers against her thighs, muttered under her breath, screeched the chair on the hardwood; everything and anything she could to be irritating. But having grown up with a little brother who was hell when he got bored, Dean wasn’t bothered. He simply ate away and tried to ignore her.  
    His tongue caught on a particularly thick slab of peanut butter and it settled on his tastebuds with its bitter, tangy consistency. Dean flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth to try to dislodge it and looked up to see Meg staring at him. Her dark eyes were almost dancing in their depths, laughing and knowing, and he realized she had been very aware of what was bothering him about eating the toast. Her eyes darted to his mouth and she made a show of licking her lips slowly. The sight of her pink tongue trailing across her cherry lips was something he hadn’t expected. Though he wanted to ignore it, his entire body did a jerk as a flash of heat went through him and made him hard instantly  
    Oh, fuck, he thought. Bored demons were definitely trouble.  
    She saw the movement and her eyebrows arched as she tilted her head. Her dark curls fell over her shoulder and she grinned wickedly.  
   “Can I ask you something?”   
   Dean shifted, trying to will away his hard-on. Thank God the table covered it. “You’re going to anyway.”  
   “Whenever you eat peanut butter, do you still taste me like you did before?” she asked and he set the toast back onto the plate with a careless toss. He moved his tongue through his mouth to try to get rid of the thickness and tried to ignore the way her brown eyes stayed focussed on him. Meg wiggled a bit in her seat and leaned as far as her legs would let her. “I bet you do.”  
    “That was… just coincidence. Not like I enjoyed it before.”  
    Her grin softened a little. “Baby, I beg to differ. I bet you are real hard right now wondering if everything about me tastes like peanut butter.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’d be better than chocolate and whiskey for you, I bet.”  
    Dean shut his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing going through his body. Maybe he had been too long without a woman, he thought, to even consider this a next move. But fuck, he was tired of her toying. It had become worse since they’d come to the cabin, since Castiel had started showing interest in her again, and Dean didn’t like to admit that he wasn’t used to being ignored in favour of the angel.  
    Meg still stared at the ceiling. “You’d better find a way to occupy me or I’m going to show you fifty ways you can turn household appliances into vibrators. How about a spell to turn Crowley’s bowels to mush?”  
     Dean stared at her and watched the way her violet silk shirt kept straining against her breasts whenever she breathed, the way her legs slid against each other as she kept her balance. Each rasp of denim and leather and silk made him fixate more and more on.   
    Damn.  
    Meg finally dropped her eyes back to him and she raised her eyebrow in question. “Something wrong there, princess? Or should I just wait for Cas to come back to give me something to do?”  
    “That’s fucking it,” he snapped. He shoved back his chair as he stood up and Meg stared up at him as he came around the table to loom over her. Her bored expression never changed as she tilted her head.  
    “Too much peanut butter?” she asked innocently and Dean shook his head, grabbing her by the elbow. She squirmed as he yanked her out of her chair, though her one hand grabbed his coat and hauled him closer. Dean cupped her by the back of her head and dove his fingers into her hair, pulling hard enough that her head tilted. He caught a flash of black eyes but he closed his eyes to it as he lowered his head and kissed her.  
    It was an instant collision of teeth and tongues as they fought each other for dominance in the kiss. Dean hadn’t known such heat and lust in a long time, so he leaned into her and poured all the guilt and anger he had into the kiss. Meg loved it, he could feel it in the way her fingers tightened on his shirt and the way her lips parted eagerly. For every time he moved his lips she was there to counter him, biting into his lower lip and forcing his mouth wider. At the first swoop of her tongue Dean felt a fresh bolt of lust go through him, followed by the tang of peanut butter. He moaned against her mouth and Meg pulled back as far as he let her, chuckling at the full-blown desire in his eyes.  
    She made a show of licking her lips and groaned playfully. “I think I might like peanut butter too,” she said, grinning.   
    Dean felt her fingers pluck at his shirt buttons and he bent at the knees to loop his arm under her thighs. He boosted her up in his arms and felt her legs lock around his waist instantly, keeping him tight against her. Dean groaned and licked at her neck as she tilted her head to the side.  
   “So… do I taste like peanut butter still?” Meg asked as she nipped at his earlobe. Dean started walking towards the back room, where they kept the spare bedding and weapons, biting and sucking at her neck. Her pelvis ground against his with each staggering step he took and Dean felt her tongue curl against his neck seductively. He swiped his own tongue against her skin and tasted peanut butter and more. The demon tasted of pure sin and all things he shouldn’t want but did.   
   “You have no fucking idea.”

 


End file.
